


A Moment of Pride

by capitainpistol



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Childhood Sweethearts, F/M, Fluff, Happy Ending, No Angst, Short & Sweet, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 10:24:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19972516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capitainpistol/pseuds/capitainpistol
Summary: The swords had stopped singing and all the outlaws were dead and suddenly he was kneeling, surrounded by warriors. A true brotherhood. Jaime stared up at the great white shadow of Ser Arthur as he raised his brilliant sword. It gleamed, finding sunrise before it revealed itself through the canopy.“The Sword of the Morning knighted me, Cersei! Arthur Dayne! I helped him defeat the Smiling Knight! I did! I kneeled before him at sunrise. And I said the words! I’m a knight, Cersei!”





	A Moment of Pride

They were young and pretty, and he rode a destrier ahead of the column, right into the Tower of the Hand, calling her name as if it had been four years instead of four weeks. Those who saw them at the first little remarked it. Under the Targaryens, it was not strange that a brother should kiss his sister, less strange for twins to be anything but close.

Jaime Lannister's sword clanked against his muddy boots. Leather pouches full of outlaw booty clinked against his saddle, leaving a trail of diamond necklaces, gold chains and all the stags, pennies and groats dropped or lost in the Kingswood. The huge horse’s hooves drummed hard on the floor, echoing through the castle as it woke.

The young lord kept shouting for his sister.

“Cersei!”

Covered in dirt and splattered with blood, Jaime laughed and the big beast neighed freely as its master pulled the reins and made them come to an abrupt stop. 

Early morning servants watched Jaime dismount in the courtyard. He shoved the warhorse into servants promptly made confused ostlers. The young lord did not see them. He was fifteen. Just escaped the clutches of death.

“CERSEI?!”

Jaime’s search went on foot. The dens, council chambers and transepts. She would be there, he knew, with their Father, waiting for him. He hadn’t slept at all the last two nights, which meant neither had she. 

His back was to the stairs when she called back to him.

“Jaime?”

Jaime turned fast and came out to the light. His eyes sharp and wide with adrenaline.

Cersei descended slow and miserable, unsure if it was truly him, but when he ran to her and went up, two steps at a time, she saw that the brown in his hair was dirt, and all that blood and grime couldn’t hide his bright green eyes. He was taller and stronger, but his tunic and doublet weren’t his and they were tattered and a size too small for him.

The war horse neighed wildly below.

Cersei let loose behind her the crimson shawl she’d clenched tightly for two nights, when all the news from the Kingswood stopped.

“Sister! I have to tell you. It is the greatest honor.”

Cersei didn’t care if he told her in Valyrian. She jumped into his arms and hugged him fiercely. He kept his step. Lifted her. Buried his face in her hair. 

“I thought you were dead. Oh, gods. Jaime.”

He smelled like her father after a long hunt, not rank but not clean. Steel and blood stuck to him, part of him now. She came away and grazed one scar here, another there. He was stronger, but his cheeks were sunken from barely eating. They had to starve out Toyne.

Jaime shook his head without a care in the world. “They killed our messengers the night before last. We made it. All of us. Barristan the Bold and Arthur Dayne. Even stupid Merret Frey. I’ll take you to see him. That news might be better than mine.” 

Cersei had never seen him so happy. She urged him to tell her. 

Jaime pressed his face to hers. “I’m a knight!” 

Without thinking, he kissed her softly on the lips. He wanted to do more, resisting her pull and making her whimper. The moment she felt his tongue she managed a good, solid jerk and saved it all with another hug that sent him back down the last few steps to nearly tumble.

Heads started poking out of the shadows. A brave few snatched from the trail of spoils Jaime left behind. Others laughed, watching, having heard rumors before Jaime arrived. That he was dead. That was why the twin was heart stricken with grief for him.

Jaime went for another kiss and she hit him right away, on the shoulder, feigning to be angry, but he grabbed her hand fast and turned the blow to an embrace. He rocked her.

“I thought you were dead! And what is that monster making all that noise? That’s not the horse father gave you.”

“That one’s dead.” He spoke in a dark whisper, “We had to eat her.”

Cersei recoiled. “What?!”

Jaime laughed. “She went under me. Her front legs. Some cunt cut them right off. The same cunt in Merret Frey’s story, as a matter of fact. And I’ve had horse. It isn’t so bad. The Rhoynar love it.”

“Dothraki.”

“Whatever.”

Jaime laughed again, and it turned into a shout. He took her by the arms. Cersei became quiet, staring closely at the dried blood on his doublet. Not all of it was his.

The swords had stopped singing and all the outlaws were dead and suddenly he was kneeling, surrounded by warriors. A true brotherhood. Jaime stared up at the great white shadow of Ser Arthur as he raised his brilliant sword. It gleamed, finding sunrise before it revealed itself through the canopy. _Blood is the seal…_

“The Sword of the Morning knighted me, Cersei! Arthur Dayne! I helped him defeat the Smiling Knight! I did! I kneeled before him at sunrise. And I said the words! I’m a knight, Cersei!”

Jaime picked her up again, spun her. Her darling brother was fearless, but the servants were more than looking now. They were crowding.

“Later,” she whispered, laying a hand on his chest to stop him.

Jaime could take her then and there. He didn’t care. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

Muffled fanfare blared outside of Maegor’s, trumpets and heralds announcing the return of the Kingsguard and the brave men Jaime rode with (barring Merret Frey, naturally).

Jaime took her hand and led her past the animal, who had already shitted a few times. Neither of the twins avoided him, instead running fast under its hooves like it was a game, laughing, hands slipping and then coming together again all the way to the Red Keep’s front gate where they met column.

“Twenty gold pieces,” called Ser Arthur. “Pay up whoever said he was going to anyone other than the Light of the West.”

Jaime and Cersei smiled and held each other close. 

“Whoever bets against that is a fool!” Cersei said to much delight and laughter.

Garlands and petals stuck to the knight’s muddy shoulders and bloody breeches. They dismounted, carrying gift bundles wrapped in silk, dropped onto their hands by the commons, and from them to their beaming squires. In minutes everyone seemed to be there.

Wine skins were passed around. Roses and rubies were flung in the air. Trophies shown. Scars compared. Merret Frey’s ass became the second most important item of discussion, bringing Cersei to tears when Jaime and ten others told the story at once.

Tywin came out later that night and Aerys too, but their appearances were brief and separate. 

More than once someone tried to drag Jaime to a proper celebration, but he kept his arm around Cersei and refused to go anywhere she could not. So they feasted together with two hundred others. Jaime’s heroes sat with him, and his sister who he adored. 

Tywin allowed them to have their drink, enough that Cersei did not care when Tyrion showed up after their father departed. The youngest little lion was the one who fixed some unfortunate placement of arms and limbs when the twins blacked out atop a table. No one minded that either, but Tyrion knew them better.

**The End**


End file.
